A Lonely Hill
by Frost687
Summary: I stand in front of the headstone, with a name etched into the polished marble. And I stare at what used to be my older brother, Karamatsu. I know we will never be able to live as we once did. However, I still need him, and he needs me. I want to promise we'll never be separated... That promise didn't exactly hold up. My name is Ichimatsu Matsuno, and this is my story.


**NOTE: This has been cross posted to my AO3 account. It's posted under Frost687 (I know, super creative naming skills right here), so don't be alarmed.**

 **WARNING: Rated T for a bit of language from none other than our very own Ichimatsu. Isn't he a precious child?**

 **By the way, I would suggest reading this fic again after finishing it. Things will make a lot more sense after doing so. At least I hope it will… *sweat drop***

 **A Lonely Hill**

* * *

There is a small hill at the edge of the cemetery. The tiny hill only has a single headstone on it. The grave must feel lonely, atop the lonely hill. After all, I'm lonely as well. For a split second, I can almost feel bright, cheerful sunlight warming my skin and the spring wind's calm breeze ruffling my hair. Then, the sensations fade away as if they were nothing more than a distant memory, and harsh reality somehow manages to slap me in the face.

 _The cats don't have anyone to feed them_ , a voice echoes in my mind. How could you abandon them? _But I can't feed the cats._ I can't go back home. I don't know why, but I just can't. _You know why you can't leave. He could be alone. He's stuck here, you're not._ Okay voice in my head, you can shut up already.

I stand, and I stare. I could have simply sat down, but I don't want to move. I can barely will myself to keep my eyes open as I stare at the lonely grave.

I stand in front of the headstone, with a name etched into the polished marble. And I stare at what used to be my older brother, Karamatsu. I want to hug him again, to comfort him again. Maybe we'll be able to sit on the roof together, with you singing your ridiculous songs while I resist the temptation to give you a good shove and let gravity do the rest. I know we will never be able to live as we once did. However, I still need him, and he needs me. I want to promise that we will never be separated again. In retrospect, that promise didn't exactly hold up. My name is Ichimatsu Matsuno, and this is my story.

* * *

" _My buraza_ , surely these cat treats would be much better suited for your feline friends, yes?"

I glanced at the small package of cat treats Karamatsu held in his hands. Within twenty seconds, I've already snatched the bag from my brother's hand and scanned over the nutrition information in the treats. Narrowing my eyes, I muttered, "Nah. The amount of salt in these things could rival the Pacific."

Yeah, Shittymatsu had joined me on my trip to the convenience store. Something about buying new mints, or was it some more gum? Either way, I had let him tag along for some weird. And of course like the shitty brother he was, Karamatsu had begun suggesting EVERY thing of cat food in and out of the store. Of course none of them could compete with what I always got. This brand had enough toxins to kill a horse, that brand had a fuck ton of possible allergens. At least Shittymatsu was trying (and at least he eventually wandered to the other side of the store).

Surprisingly, it was only a year ago when I couldn't go an hour without insulting or threatening Karamatsu in some way, shape, or form. Okay so I still called him Shittymatsu and kicked him off the roof time to time, but we're brothers. There has to be some type of arguing going on. Other than our relationship, I guess we haven't changed too much. I'm still the worthless shut in who values cats over human lives. Karamatsu is still the painful saint who tries way too hard to impress _everyone_.

Long story short, Karamatsu met ESP Kitty and a lot of shit happened. I was sad(der than usual), Karamatsu was sad(der than usual), and emotions happened. And we started getting along better. Then, Karamatsu started to cling to me like a kitten when I stopped giving him six death threats a day.

I was still in my little daydream a few million light years away when Karamatsu and I bought our cat treats and painful shit. Of course. The blazing sunlight hitting my eyes finally brought me back to reality when we exited the store, as the wind ruffled my clothing and messed up my hair even more than usual. Actually, I first noticed the sweltering outdoor air wrapping around me like a damp blanket. We live in Japan, not the desert. So why is the weather hot enough to fry an egg?

Karamatsu skipped (he fucking skipped, for the love of god) down the street with a lively bounce in his step as I trailed behind while glancing down alleyways every now and then. Who are we kidding; I stared into every alley possible in the chance that a new stray might be lurking in a garbage can.

Some sort of window display in a nearby fashion store had distracted Karamatsu. I only spared a single glance at the mannequin and its gaudy, sparkle covered outfit, and then I was focused on getting away from that store as quickly as possible.

I turned my head slightly and called, "Karamatsu, drag your painful ass to the crosswalk, now. The light's going to change!" He shouted something about catching up, so I just shrugged and left him to his flashy, painful devices. After glancing back and forth to check for assholes ignoring the bright red stoplight, I slowly started to cross the street.

Fuck, why didn't I take off my hoodie before crossing? I tugged at my collar, barely noticing my slowed walking. In fact, I barely noticed Karamatsu's shouting until he started running across the street. There are all these clichéd movies that use a car crash as an excuse for the main love interest to bond in a near death experience. It's cool and everything, but shouldn't writers put a little more creativity into writing romantic and/or tragic stories? Honestly, what are the chances of that ever happening? That day, I learned the chances are pretty high.

"Get out of the way Ichimatsu! Ichimatsu! There's a TRUCK!" Of course, I had somehow failed to notice the giant vehicle rushing toward me (pretty sure that was higher than the speed limit) until my brother's screeching finally caught my attention. And as soon as I saw the truck, my muscles stiffened and I was glued to the road like a deer, or a cat in the very real headlights.

Suddenly, there was a flash of blue as Karamatsu suddenly appeared in my line of vision and pushed me out of the truck's path. I managed to grab hold of his hoodie, grasping the blue fabric as if it were a lifeline, which it probably was. A truck's honking and screams started to ring through my ears. Then I heard a crash. I still don't know what exactly happened.

* * *

"Karamatsu and Ichimatsu are okay, right? They're gonna come home with some broken bones and we'll make sure they get better! Right? Karamatsu has survived falling off a two-story building and Ichimatsu once had a terrible accident with a spaceship. They always come back, so why not now?"

My mind wandered back to that crash. Faint images repeatedly ran through my mind like a broken reel of film. I could only remember a truck, Karamatsu screaming for me to run, and a harsh wave of pain making its way through my body as I hit the pavement. There was blood… too much blood. I remembered how my favorite hoodie was soaked in dark crimson, and how it all clumped my hair together. I probably looked disgusting.

Now, we're at a hospital. It's a small hospital just a ways away from the store, so close I might catch a glimpse of our home, or Chibita's oden stand by that nearby river. The staff here somehow put up with the Matsuno family year in and year out, starting with a new set of sextuplets and ending with a new set of quintuplets.

Everything about this spotless, sterile hospital felt… off. I know the hospital has to be clean or bad shit happens, but why does the place's scent seem so dull and lifeless? White bedsheets, white pillows, white wallpapers, even a white lampshade… I glanced around the hospital room, comparing every aspect of it to the bedroom room back in our tiny home. The bed was tiny, it only had enough room for one person. The decorations were too plain, where was the colorful (and magical, that thing never fell) matryoshka sitting on the bookshelf? Nothing was right here.

Muffled voices rang in my ears, and I could barely catch what the doctor was telling my parents in a clear, emotionless voice. "-lucky your son survived. Aside from several minor abrasions, he sustained a broken arm, which has already received a cast. As for your other son…"

NO.

NO, NO, NO. Why did this happen? Did I talk about death? Sure. Did I want anyone to die? NO. Staring in the other direction, I glared at the wispy clouds dotting the outside sky as if they would distract me from Mom's sobbing.

Wait, what? Mom sounded like an absolute wreck; I think Dad and Osomatsu tried (and failed) to calm her down, if her hiccupping and heaving was anything to go on. "… multiple fractures as well. He also sustained several lacerations from the windshield's broken glass. We did our best, but he died of blood loss and trauma. I'm sorry."

Time of death: 15:46.

* * *

"Come on nii-san, it's getting late! We can come back tomorrow!" calls Jyushimatsu, craning his neck to stare at the grave placed at the top of the lonely hill. Instead of his bright yellow hoodie, the fifth (it's fourth now) Matsuno brother keeps his baseball uniform on. Judging by his mud caked sneakers and dusty cap, we can all tell how much the second youngest brother has thrown himself into baseball, figuratively and literally. After a few minutes of silence, Jyushimatsu continues, shouting, "And you might catch a cold if you stay here too long! He wouldn't want that!"

"Give me a few minutes, Jyushimatsu! You can go home, I'll catch up." Sure, that will totally happen. I glance between the grave and my younger brother, whose trek to the cemetery's entrance is constantly interrupted by glances back at the lonely hill I stand on.

Jyushimatsu never drops that exaggerated façade when he feels someone is watching him. His gigantic grin is still slapped over his mouth like a sticker, but we can all see how his eyes have dulled in comparison within the last year.

It really has been a year, hasn't it? Everyday without fail, Jyushimatsu walks up to the grave and plops down on the hill, right in front of the headstone. He tells story after story, flapping his arms around and mimicking swinging a baseball bat. My younger brother would always keep grinning and jumping around like normal as soon as he sees one of his brothers. Well, I've seen Jyushimatsu when he drops that fake persona, and it only happens when he thinks he's completely alone. He wraps his oversized sleeves around himself, as if the fabric is a sort of protection against the outside world. When Homura went back to her parents' home, Jyushimatsu spent days bawling and crying as loud as possible. Now, the most he can manage are a few shivers as tears drip down his face. Of course I've tried calling out to my younger brother, but every time my words catch in my throat and remain unspoken. And every time he visits alone, Jyushimatsu leaves alone with a wish to have his brother back.

Karamatsu, what are you doing? You should be comforting them right now. You should be playing your guitar while singing your painful songs. You're a lot better at this whole family thing than me, so you should be comforting them. Think about your brothers for once! Then again, I suppose it's still my fault in the end.

All I can think about is that truck that crashed into us. Whenever I close my eyes, I think about the cold, sterile hospital and our family reassuring each other that we'll be perfectly fine after a few weeks of recovery. Then I think about Mom's sobbing and Osomatsu-niisan's silence. Whenever I open my eyes, I see my brothers trying (but failing) to recover completely after the funeral. I can see Chibita's oden stand, with an empty spot always saved for a brother who would never eat there. I can see an extra treat always saved just in case a miracle happens (though it never does).

I can see an unused purple hoodie hanging in the back of the closet, washed completely free of dirt and blood.

Well, I can see how Karamatsu blames himself for everything. I cannot see the blood, but I can still feel glass slicing into me as blood soaks through my purple hoodie. When I died, he started talking about how he had tried to save me. He figured that if he just pushed me out of the truck's path, I would be fine. Karamatsu's painful songs and annoying compliments disappeared, and eventually he stopped mentioning the accident. The second brother became silent.

Now, I can only watch my older brother as Jyushimatsu glances back toward my grave. I can only think about how much I want to hug Karamatsu, and punch him in the face for becoming so lifeless when he should be painful. My name is Ichimatsu Matsuno, and that was the story of how I died.

And now, I stand beside Karamatsu, as we gaze at my lonely grave atop the lonely hill.

* * *

 **So yeah, this is quite the doozy. Of course my first Osomatsu-san fanfic is this monstrosity. :') By the way, keeping all of the details at the beginning of the story vague enough was waaaaaaay annoying, let me just say. I still hope you enjoyed!**

 **Signing off,**  
 **Frost**


End file.
